


The Five Times Melchior Saved Moritz (From Himself)

by nothingwithoutyouxo



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff and Crack, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 08:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11459601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingwithoutyouxo/pseuds/nothingwithoutyouxo
Summary: Moritz Stiefel is a mess of a person. He's the clumsiest boy alive and if it weren't for his friends, he probably would have accidentally died a long time ago.





	The Five Times Melchior Saved Moritz (From Himself)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldengalaxyboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldengalaxyboy/gifts).



> I can't for the life of think a good summary for this fic so if you clicked on it anyway, bless your heart. There's five different prompts used in this so I'm not going to list them all here at the moment. This is unbetaed so sorry if there's any mistakes. Also, Wyatt, you precious patient boy, this is for you. I hope you like it (and anyone else reading this too!)

Moritz had always been clumsy. The poor boy had no co-ordination of any kind, he was always stumbling and falling over his own feet. It had been like that for as long as any of them could remember. His guardian angel must have been having a terrible time trying to look out for him. That must have been why Melchior existed. He always seemed to be in the right place at the right time whenever Moritz lost his footing, always ready to catch him. It had been happening since they were kids. 

 

***

 

_ One  _

 

When Moritz was 10 he’d been sitting next to Ilse on the school bus. He was next to the window and the two of them jokingly waved to everyone that they drove passed, curious as to if they would wave back or not. Ilse called the game ‘sweet and sour’ and it was one of her favourites, right up on her list with ‘pirates’. They often played it on excursions and whenever Ilse’s mother would drove them to dance class. Ilse convinced Moritz to come over that afternoon, even if Wendla couldn’t come over, she assured him that her mother wouldn’t mind if it was just the two of them. She had a new movie she wanted to show him anyway. It never took Moritz long to agree, he much preferred Ilse’s house to his own. It was somehow so much … warmer than his. And Ilse’s mum was much nicer than his dad. 

 

They’d been almost to Ilse’s stop. She always insisted that she needed to rush out the doors the second they opened. The quicker she got off the bus, the quicker everyone else could get home. She was certain of that, so when they were close enough to her stop Ilse often jumped up out of her seat and made for the doors. Moritz sometimes wondered why that always seemed so much easier for her than it was for him. Sometimes he fell in the aisle just trying to keep up with her. Moritz stood, wanting to keep up with his friend the best he could. He only got about three rows up when the driver hit the brakes a little too late in order not to run a red light. While Ilse managed to keep her grip, Moritz wasn’t nearly as lucky and fell straight into Melchior’s lap. 

 

“Sorry,” Moritz muttered, instantly embarrassed as he looked up at Melchior. 

 

Otto was giggling next to him but Melchior tried not to let that phase him. He smiled instead. “Are you ok, Moritz?” he asked.

 

Moritz just nodded more times than was absolutely necessary and apologised, his cheeks turning bright red.

 

“It’s ok,” Melchior replied, gently helping him back to his feet as the bus pulled over at Ilse’s stop. He kept his hand on Moritz’s arm until the bus was at a stop just incase he fell over again. “Bye Moritz.”

 

Moritz didn’t so much as look at him as he all but ran to the doors to catch up with Ilse. “Yeah, bye,” he muttered, barely audible. 

 

Ilse burst into a fit of laughter the second the school bus pulled away and that made Moritz feel worse. He poked her in the side but that only made her laugh harder. He crossed his arms over his chest instead. “Sorry, Moritz,” she managed in between giggles.

 

He just rolled his eyes in response.

 

She tried to muffle her laughing fit. The two of them got most of the way down the street to her house by the time she stopped laughing. She looked over at him, smirking to try and cheer him up. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked.

 

Moritz shook his head. “Do you think I hurt, Melchi?”

 

“No. I think he’s ok.”

 

“Ok, good.”

 

There was a pause while Ilse shuffled in her school bag for her keys. Her mother had given them to her incase she couldn’t make it to the door straight away. It made Ilse feel kind of special, more grown up. The lock on their front door was higher than most locks and Ilse had to stand on her toes to reach it but she always managed. 

 

“Moritz?” she smiled as the door swung open.

 

“Yeah?”

  
“Do you have a crush on Melchi?”

 

“Ilse!”

 

***

 

_ Two  _

 

When Moritz was 12 he was making his way to the table that his friends always claimed in the cafeteria. It was close to the back of the room and was quite the walk when carrying a tray of food. He heard Hanschen joke once that they’d picked it because it increased the chance of Moritz falling over on the way there. Really it was because it was the best table, it was near the windows and no one ever walked all the way up this side and the teacher’s never bothered them all the way over there. They preferred to be able to just  _ be  _ without feeling like they were being watched, some of them had too much of that at home. It also meant that they could get out card games and take up the whole table, not having to worry about other people trying to sit with them. Ernst was somehow the undefeated Magic! Champion, and everyday that seemed to make Georg more and more confused. 

 

He almost made it all the wave to their table. Martha and Thea were walking next to him, holding their own trays and talking about a movie the two of them had seen recently. Moritz always preferred just to focus on walking. It was basically an obstacle course getting across the cafeteria on the best of days. Wendla waved at the three of them as they approached, smiling. Thea made it to the table first, Martha not too far behind her. Everything seemed to be in the clear, except someone moved their chair at the wrong time and Moritz managed to somehow walk into it, tripping on it. Melchior must have had incredible reflexes because he grabbed onto Moritz’s wrist to keep him upright so that he didn’t collapse to the ground next to their table. And though Moritz was grateful for that his tray wasn’t nearly as lucky and most of his food went tumbling into Melchior’s lap. 

 

Everything happened very quickly after that. Moritz felt himself freeze entirely, out of familiar embarrassment.The girls started piling napkins together to hand over to Melchior, somehow being able to just burst into action. Ernst gently took Moritz’s tray out of his hands, careful not to jostle the remaining food and placed it on the table. Melchior continued to hold onto Moritz’s wrist and watched as the horror spread across his friend’s face. 

 

“Sorry,” Moritz muttered. He flinched away when he noticed that Melchior was still holding onto his wrist. “Melchior, I’m sorry. I didn’t - I’m sorry.”

 

Melchior wasn’t entirely sure why Moritz seemed to be so  _ afraid  _ of him in these moments. He took the napkins from the girls and gently started cleaning up. “It’s ok, Moritz,” he reassured, voice steady. “Really, it’s nothing. It was just an accident.”

 

Moritz still seemed frozen. He apologised about half a dozen more times before letting Ernst gently tug him towards the table to sit down. 

 

“Alright,” Melchior smiled, looking up at everyone again. “All fixed. See Moritz? Everything’s ok.” He reached over to tap Moritz’s hand reassuringly which lead to him noticing just how empty Moritz’s tray was now. He frowned at that. “Hang on, I’ll get you some more food.”

 

“Melchi, you don’t have to do that.”

 

“You have to eat something,” he shrugged, standing. 

 

“Good luck getting more food,” Hanschen added. “Those women don’t even let me get extra celery sticks.”

 

Melchior just smiled at him and headed back across the cafeteria. 

 

Moritz was trying to ignore the fact that he was shaking. Martha and Ilse moved so they were sitting on either side of him, each putting an arm around him.

 

“Don’t worry Moritz, it wouldn’t be lunch with you if this didn’t happen at least once a week,” Otto teased, trying to cheer up his obviously distressed friend. 

 

When Melchior came back with an entirely new and actually full lunch tray Moritz didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure how to thank him but Melchior seemed intent on the fact that this wasn’t something he needed to be thanked for. 

 

***

 

_ Three  _

 

When Moritz was 14 he was sure that he was going to be late to class. He’d had a horribly rough night and hadn’t gotten much sleep and yet he’d still somehow managed to sleep in. Then for some reason he’d started heading to the wrong class so now he had about two minutes to rush down about three flights of stairs and five hallways and he was sure that he was in no way going to make it, but he had to try. His dad would kill him if he was late to class  _ again _ . The hallways were absolutely deserted and that only made him panic more because the fact of the matter was that he was going to be the absolute last person to his class and if he narrowly managed to avoid a late pass then that would be a feat within itself. 

 

In his rush to get to class, Moritz seemed to miss the ‘wet floor’ sign at the top of one of the staircases. While he was trying to fly down the staircase, he ended up slipping and skidding down the last few steps, Moritz was sure that this was how he was going to die. He thought briefly that he hoped his friends know how much he loved him, even though he wasn’t good at showing it. While Moritz braced himself for hitting the cold, hard ground he found himself hitting something else instead. Something warm and human-like. 

 

“You alright, Moritz?”

 

Moritz pulled away immediately, losing his footing again and almost sliding, if it wasn’t for Melchior grabbing onto him again before that could happen. Melchior laughed a little at that and it was so familiar that Moritz felt his heart growing at least three sizes before he looked up at him.

 

“Careful,” Melchior smiled at him, not in the least but teasing.

 

“I’m ok,” Moritz muttered, needing to look away and gently prying his arm away from Melchior again. 

 

“Why are you running down staircases at this time of the morning?”

 

“Late for class,” he shrugged. Then it occurred to him that Melchior was also here, in this completely empty hallway, and that he didn’t look bothered by it at all. “Wait, what are you doing?” he asked.

 

“Skipping class,” Melchior replied, running a hand through his hair and shrugging one shoulder. “Not a big fan of politics.”

 

Moritz’s eyebrows furrowed at that. “Politics is your favourite subject,” he replied. Georg was in it with him, he always mentioned how Melchior was so  _ alive  _ in that class. 

 

“Not a fan of the topic this week,” he amended. Then Melchior looked at the ground and quickly dropped down, picking up a few books that were scattered around.

 

Moritz realised that Melchior must have dropped whatever he’d been carrying to catch him. He practically fell to the floor, helping him gathered up the few papers that seemed to have fallen out of one of his notebooks. “You didn’t have to catch me,” he said.

 

“I couldn’t just let you fall, Moritz. You should know that by now.” Melchior stood up again, accepting the stack of papers from Moritz and placing it inside one of the books in his arms. “Come on, I’ll walk you to class. Where are you headed?”

 

“You don’t have to walk me to class.”

 

“Moritz,” he smiled, looking down at his nervous friend. “It’s fine. Where are you supposed to be?”

 

“Um,” Moritz muttered, desperately trying to go over his schedule in his head. Where had he been going again? 

 

“English, right?” Melchior asked. 

 

_ English, yes of course _ . He nodded. 

  
Melchior smiled and started walking in the direction of the English corridor. He’d gotten about eight steps when he realised that Moritz wasn’t following him. He turned quickly. “You coming, Moritz?”

 

Moritz looked at him for a moment but nodded and followed. “Are you really walking me to class?” he asked, confused.

 

“I really am. Do you need me to carry anything? Your bag or anything?”

 

Moritz just looked at him. Typically that would be a joke, but there wasn’t that mocking glint in Melchior’s eye right now. He pulled on the straps of his backpack absently. “No, I’m ok.”

 

“Sure. You didn’t hurt yourself falling did you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Awesome.”

 

A silence fell between the two of them. The English corridor wasn’t all that far but Moritz really didn’t want  to reach it. He was carefully debating whether skipping the class altogether was better than being late but he couldn’t figure out if his dad would be notified if he didn’t show up. “Why are you skipping your politics class?” he asked, looking up at Melchior. “You love that class.”

  
Melchior looked from Moritz to the ground, his smile fading.

 

“I know you said it’s the topic. So what’s the topic then?”

 

“Just some debate about some specific social issues. I’m kind of sick of human rights being discussed as openly as they are in that class sometimes. I don’t feel like fighting today.”

 

Moritz wasn’t sure exactly what that meant but he nodded anyway. If it was enough to keep  _ Melchior  _ away, then it must have been a strong topic. He didn’t push it any further.

 

The two of them reached Moritz’s classroom and he stared at the closed door. He could feel Melchior’s eyes on him, and wasn’t entirely sure why he was hesitating.

 

“If you’re worried about getting yelled at then I’ll open the door for you,” Melchior said.

 

Moritz wondered just what he’d done to deserve friends like he had. “You don’t have to do that.”

 

“It’s no problem.” Melchior moved towards the door, Moritz just a step behind him. He looked back and when Moritz nodded, pushed the door open. 

 

The teacher paused, looking over at the two of them in confusion. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed Moritz. 

 

“Sorry, to disturb you, Miss. Just delivering a student. I fell down the stairs and Moritz helped me gather up my things. I’ll return him to you now,” Melchior lied, every bit as charming as he needed to be to get his way. She nodded and ushered Moritz into the room. 

 

Moritz obeyed so quickly that he forgot to thank Melchior, but he did notice Melchior wink at him, smiling, before he closed the door after him. And if the way that Ilse and Martha both started scribbling messages on the edges of their notebooks was anything to go by, he was sure that they noticed too. 

 

***

 

_ Four  _

 

When Moritz was 15, Thea and Anna convinced him to join the school play with them. The two girls were absolutely certain that he was a good actor, even if he was sure he’d never offered them any proof of that. He tried to remind them that he had a horrible memory, so he wouldn’t know any of his lines but they insisted that they knew he could do it. He only agreed eventually because they reassured him that they would be with him the whole time and that he would only have a minor part with a maximum of probably five lines. Moritz thought that he could maybe deal with that. 

 

The play wasn’t anything special, just some vaguely adapted Shakespeare play that the drama club was putting on. Martha mentioned something about the adaptation being the part of some senior’s English project of some kind. He didn’t really care. He only had three lines and if he rushed through them no one would probably notice that he spoke anyway. Rehearsals were pretty boring for the most part. Considering Moritz had such a small part he was often wrangled into helping build props while the leads ran lines and the director worked out staging. He didn’t even have to know his owns lines until well into rehearsal. 

 

Everything was going really well. They were actually on schedule by the time dress rehearsals were due to start. All the props were actually finished, the costumes were pretty much entirely together and everyone seemed to know their lines at least 92% of the time. The first dress rehearsal was their first proper run through of everything. Up until then they’d only really rehearsed in fragments of scenes. If this went well, then they would be sure that they could actually  _ do  _ this. 

 

It seemed to be going well. The friends of most of the cast had opted to be a sort of test audience for the rehearsal and had lined the first few rows. All of Moritz’s friends that weren’t in the play with him, Thea and Anna were in the front row. Moritz wasn’t sure if that made him more nervous but he was going to try his best. The leads were absolutely killing it and it was absolutely horrifying to go on after them. Moritz had never been more grateful that he was able to go with Thea and Anna at his side. 

 

The three of them seemed to be doing well enough. Thea’s lines elicited the appropriate laughs. None of them forgot what to say. Moritz prepared for his own lines, running them over again and again in his head. He started walking towards the lip of the stage. With the lights on him, and focusing so hard on the lines he was about to say, he seemed to miss one of the props on the ground (one that he’d helped paint. Oh, the irony!) and tumbled forward off the stage. He ended up landing straight in Melchior’s lap, because  _ of course  _ he had to sit in the middle of all their friends, directly in the middle of the row and in front of where Moritz had been standing on the stage. Moritz heard his friends start to laugh around him. He looked up at Melchior, who looked the perfect mix of worried and amused, and finished his lines. Thea and Anna quickly finished up the scene and the rehearsal continued on. 

 

“You ok, Moritz?” Melchior asked, smiling at him patiently. 

 

Moritz just looked at him for a moment, completely horrified. “I think we have to stop meeting like this,” he said, as if somehow making a joke would make this less awkward. 

 

Melchior laughed at it, so he guessed that it was a success.

 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, quickly shifting to stand.

 

“No, I’m fine. Are  _ you  _ ok? You’re the one that fell off stage,” he reminded.

 

Moritz nodded, standing and fiddling with his costume absently.

 

“You know, Moritz, I didn’t know you’d look so good in a leather jacket,” Melchior said.

 

Moritz looked up at him, confused for a moment. Melchior tugged on his jacket, bringing them closer together for a moment. Moritz couldn’t breathe.

 

“Moritz,” the director hissed, signalling for him to get backstage again.

 

Moritz nodded and quickly looked back to Melchior. “Sorry,” he whispered, before disappearing backstage.

 

Georg leaned closer to Melchior, smirk already in place. He was aware that there were still a few people around them whispering, and he could sense how stiff Melchior had become. “He really does have a habit of falling into your lap doesn’t he?”

 

“It’s not really his fault,” Melchior replied, trying to keep his voice down because he could still see the glaring director out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

“No he falls over all the time. He doesn’t plan it.”

 

“You’re sure about that,” he teased.

 

“Of course I’m sure. This is  _ Moritz  _ we’re talking about.”

 

“You know what, I agree with you, but it would be kind of funny if he had some kind of ulterior motive.”

 

Melchior just rolled his eyes at that. 

 

***

 

_ Five  _

 

Moritz had always hated compulsory sport and when he was 17 that was absolutely paramount. It was ridiculous for the school system to force him to participate in something that he had absolutely no skill for and was constantly embarrassed in. Team sports were the worst, because then he had a bunch of other people who knew how horrible he was at whatever they were playing that day. He hated letting people down the most. 

 

When their class had to walk down to the field that day, Moritz knew it was going to be a disaster in the making. That day’s lesson was soccer, which was probably one of his worst nightmares. He was certain that hell was a sporting field. There was no other explanation for how he felt when everyone walked out on the field and the teacher blew the whistle to indicate the start of their game. All Moritz could really try to do was stay out of the way and avoid the ball as much as he could. He found that if he stayed on the opposite side of the field, then he seemed to avoid it well enough. 

 

Melchior seemed to be leading the game, because  _ of course  _ he was. Truly, there wasn’t anything that Melchior  _ couldn’t  _ do. Eventually their teacher mentioned something about him toning it down so that other people in their class could have a fair go. Moritz was sure that most of the class were happy to watch how everything played out but Melchior listened to her and the ball seemed to pass between a lot more people. 

 

It was going perfectly fine. Moritz hadn’t even had to deal with the ball once. He’d even had the chance to talk to Ernst on a few occasions when he ended up on the same side of the field as him, and he threw in a few words with Thea and Martha whenever he got the chance. Ilse and Hanschen were pretty involved in the game, as were Otto and Georg most of the time so he left them to it. Disaster struck when one of their classmates accidently kicked the ball in the wrong direction. Everyone stopped in place as they watched the ball roll all the way to the other side of the field. It stopped just short of Moritz and he stared down at it, absolutely horrified. 

 

“Moritz!” someone called. 

 

He looked up to see Ilse waving her arms wildly and trying to tell him to kick the ball. He looked around at the faces of his classmates, a few of them had started jogging towards him but it would take them a while to get there. Moritz looked down at the ball and took a deep breath. He could do this. All it took was one kick in the direction of everyone else and then he could ignore the ball for the rest of the game. And their teacher couldn’t say anything about how Moritz hadn’t participated. He nodded to himself, took a few steps backwards and another deep breath and did his best. His best being, of course, that he half kicked, half fall over the ball and ended up in a heap on the fall, clutching at his ankle that had definitely bent the wrong way. 

 

Melchior seemed to get there first, Ilse and Martha not far behind him. He dropped the ground next to Moritz immediately, and gently pried Moritz’s hands off his ankle so he could see the damage. “It’s ok, Moritz. It’s ok,” he muttered immediately, trying to calm his friend down because there were distinct tears forming in his eyes. Melchior couldn’t blame him, that definitely would have hurt.

 

Moritz was trying to ignore the fact that some of his classmates were laughing at him, as well as the pain. He tried to focus on what Melchior was doing but he wasn’t really sure what that was. 

 

“You’ve just sprained it,” he reassured. “It’s twisted. It’ll be ok soon. I promise. You just need some ice on it”

 

“Hurts,” Moritz muttered, sucking in another breath.

 

“I know.”

 

The teacher came up to them, asked if Moritz was ok, to which he furiously shook his head. She sighed, obviously pitying him and said that he could head on up to the nurse’s room. Considering that he wouldn’t be able to walk, she instructed Melchior to go with him. 

 

Moritz was trying not to think about how this was the absolute most horrible, embarrassing moment of his life, and he’d had a lot of those. 

 

Melchior stood up, and offered Moritz his hand, supporting him until he was sort of standing. “Don’t lean any of your weight against it,” Melchior instructed, moving one of Moritz’s arms so it was around his own shoulders and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Use me, ok? It’ll help.”

 

“Yeah,  _ use  _ him, Moritz!”

 

“Shut up, Bobby,” Melchior groaned. 

 

The teacher started ushering the rest of the class back onto the field. Moritz tried to reassure his friends that he was fine so that they could join them. They didn’t look convinced but continued back onto the field. 

 

Using Melchior to lean against, Moritz managed to somehow hop his way over to the edge of the field. 

 

“How much does it hurt?” Melchior asked, supporting as much of Moritz’s weight as Moritz would let him. 

 

“A lot,” Moritz replied. “This is hard,” he muttered, trying to keep his balance on his good leg. 

 

Melchior looked up towards the school buildings. In order to get to the nurse, they’d have to get up a hill and at this rate that could take all day, not that he could blame Moritz at all for that. “You know, I could carry you,” he muttered, looking down at the grass.

 

“Carry me?” Moritz smirked. “Not likely.”

 

“I could,” Melchior shrugged, adjusting his grip on Moritz’s waist absently. 

 

Moritz paused and looked over at him. He wasn’t exactly sure why Melchior was being serious about this. Moritz couldn’t tell if Melchior was red because he was blushing or if he was still puffed from the game. He sort of wished that it was the first reason. “You really think you can carry me?” he asked, not entirely sure why he was considering this at all. 

 

Melchior nodded. “I don’t think you’d be that heavy,” he explained. 

 

Moritz looked behind him at the field. Everyone was already immersed in the game. No one would notice. He looked at Melchior and nodded. 

 

“You sure?” 

 

He nodded again. “You said I needed ice on my ankle right? I’ll never get it if I walk there like this.”

 

Melchior smiled at that. “Alright,” he muttered. He nodded, seemingly more to himself than to Moritz. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“I trust you,” Moritz shrugged, not quite realising what he was saying until the words were out of his mouth. His eyes widened. 

 

Melchior just smiled at him. “I’m gonna pick you up now,” he said. 

 

“Sure.”

 

There was a pause where they just stood and looked at each other, but then Melchior swooped into action, gently scooping Moritz up. 

 

“Ok?” he asked, noticing Moritz shudder immediately. 

 

“Yup,” Moritz muttered, burying his head against Melchior’s shoulder so that he could try and ignore the fact that he was absolutely turning really  _ red  _ right now. He wondered if Melchior could feel his heart beating, or even  _ hear  _ it considering just how loud it seemed to Moritz right now. 

 

Neither of them spoke as Melchior made his way up the steps that separated the field from the rest of the school. Moritz wondered why Melchior didn’t even seem to be struggling with this. He couldn’t really have been that strong, right?

 

“You ok?” Melchior asked, breaking the silence between then. Moritz was shaking a little, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was the close contact or because of something else.

 

“Am I heavy?” he asked before he could stop himself.

 

“Not really,” Melchior answered easily, “I don’t think you weigh much. Do you eat?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Moritz!”

 

“I know, I know,” Moritz sighed. “I’ve gotta try harder with that.”

 

“You really should.” 

 

Moritz wasn’t exactly sure why Melchior sounded so concerned but that must have been a good thing, right? That must have meant that Melchior cared about him. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think about that. It made sense. They’d known each other a long time. He probably cared about Melchior too. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” Melchior asked, smirking. 

 

“Um, not you?”  _ Shit. Shitshitshitshit. _

 

“That’s … specific,” he teased.

 

Moritz dropped his head to Melchior’s shoulder again. They were entering the buildings now. They were almost at the nurse’s room. This would be over soon. “I’m never going to live this down,” he muttered.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, you always have to save me somehow. You know, stop me from falling over or whatever,” he shrugged. 

 

Melchior looked down at him, confused as to where Moritz was going with this. “So?” he asked.

 

“Well, you don’t have to do that,” he said.

 

“I’m sorry?” he tried.

 

“No, don’t apologise. I just - I don’t know, Melchi. I guess I don’t thank you enough.”

 

“You don’t need to thank me, Moritz,” Melchior smiled, coming to a stop in front of the white door that read ‘Nurse’ in bold letters. “I told you. It’s ok. You know I mean that, right?”

 

Moritz looked between Melchior and the door. “I guess you can put me down now,” he said.

 

Melchior put him down gently, catching him again and laughing when Moritz stumbled as he tried to stay upright. “Maybe I should just keep my hands on you at all times,” he smirked. “You know, so you don’t injure yourself again.”

 

Moritz looked up at him for a moment, making a quick decision of a response. “I wouldn’t be … opposed to that.”

 

He looked down at him, smiling ever more. 

 

Moritz panicked at the silence. “Sorry, did I overstep. I -”

 

Melchior shook his head quickly, leaning down and pressing his lips to Moritz’s to cut off another one of his thousands of apologies. He wasn’t entirely sure how Moritz would react, but when he grabbed onto the front of Melchior’s blazer he took that as a sign that he’d done the right thing. When he pulled away, Moritz just looked at him, eyes wide and almost glazed over. Melchior beamed at him. “We should get some ice for that ankle of yours,” he said.

 

Moritz blinked a few times and nodded. “Question,” he said, not letting go of Melchior. 

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Is …  _ That,  _ uh, something that can happen again … at some point?”

 

“If you want it to. Now come on, ice,” he prompted.

 

“Right. Ice. Ankle. Not kissing.”

 

“The kissing comes later.”

 

Moritz watched as Melchior knocked gently on the nurse’s door. He looked a little more smug than usual but it seemed to suit him somehow. “Later is good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Is this unrealistic? Probably  
> Does that matter to me? Not really
> 
> Come hassle me about Spring Awakening on Tumblr because I won't shut up about this god damn musical. I'm over at potter-awakening :)


End file.
